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Colours!What is it to be a man?
We, as a species, are flawed. Insane, impossible and brilliant. Beautiful in our colours. Blue, red, green, brown, yellow, orange, purple.
We exist through each other. The colours painted through life.
They are flawed. Impossible and brilliant. Beautiful in our colours.
Politics; the pallet with which we forever stain the canvas of life. We instinctively, biologically, lie, corrupt and cheat to survive.
But we are flawed. Brilliant. Beautiful in our colours.
Yet why do we help? Profit, maybe; personal gain through relationships. But we are capable of emotion. Thought. Memory. There is no reason for us to be as we are.
Because we are flawed. And we are beautiful in our colours! We are impossible and we are brilliant in our colours. Blue, red, green, yellow, orange, purple.
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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